Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bizarre Inc. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Zapp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dark Day,
Ohio Players,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Massinfluence,
Half Japanese,
Minny Pops,
The Residents,
Mandrill,
Barrington Levy,
The Misunderstood,
Section 25,
Rosa Yemen,
Malaria!,
Quadrant,
Scan 7,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quantec,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arcadia,
Subhumans,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nico,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
Yusef Lateef,
Pere Ubu,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantytec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Wyatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
JFA,
Suburban Knight,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Style,
Ituana,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.